


Landslide: An Alex Riley Story

by QuietREBelGirlWithVoDKa



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, Kayfabe Compliant, M/M, Too many pairings, heartbroken boys, rebound hookups
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-07
Updated: 2018-03-05
Packaged: 2019-03-01 16:14:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13298529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuietREBelGirlWithVoDKa/pseuds/QuietREBelGirlWithVoDKa
Summary: "But time makes you bolder, children get older. I'm getting older, too." After his entire world is unceremoniously ripped from beneath him, Alex struggles to learn how to stand on his own two feet. Too bad nothing's ever that simple. Originally posted 6/2/2011.





	1. Landslide

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own shit.
> 
> Author's Note: Cha-rist this thing is old! It doesn't feel like it was written as long ago as it was. I actually read back through it before I started moving stuff over here and I was pretty impressed at how much I still love it. It's still one of my favorite stories, and the first chaptered fic I'd done since high school, so it was a huge undertaking in its own right. This actually got started the night of Over the Limit, while I was watching it, because I'd had the idea for a little bit (parts of it) and I finally had the words to make it happen. The story starts about a week before Over the Limit. Hope you enjoy it as much as I do. :)
> 
> Warnings: None.

_~Well, I've been afraid of changing,  
'Cause I've built my life around you.~_

 

Alex Riley is definitely the last person Heath expects to see when he opens the door to his and Justin's shared apartment, especially looking quite so disheveled and sad. His hair is a mess, like he's been tugging on it. His cheeks are bright red and swollen, his eyes still lined with tears. He's wringing his hands almost nervously in front of him, not even meeting Heath's eyes. The redhead lets out a sigh.

"Can I help you?" he asks, his voice bearing a bit of confusion.

"Is-is Justin here?" Alex mumbles, his voice scratchy.

Heath rolls his eyes.  _Of course_ , he thinks. He doesn't even bother shutting the door all the way before he turns and yells down the hall.

"Justin! There's a trainwreck at the door for you! Come handle it!"

Justin wanders out from the hall a moment later, curious expression on his face. Heath makes a dissmisive hand gesture towards the front door, disappearing towards his room. The high flyer's brow furrows and he opens the door. The sight before him nearly knocks the wind out of him. He reaches out and takes the younger by the shoulder, beckoning him forth into the house.

"Alex, what's wrong?" Justin asks softly.

Alex won't meet his eyes, so Justin takes his shoulders into smaller hands and forces the taller to look at him. When Alex does, the high flyer almost wishes he hadn't. He looks so... _broken_. Justin doesn't know what to say. He takes Alex's hand, leading him down the hall and into the safety of his room. He makes sure the door is shut behind them before he tugs Alex into the safety of his arms. The taller crumbles, clinging to Justin like he's falling, like Justin is the only thing keeping him from losing it all. The high flyer's not sure what to do, his arms coming up awkwardly to wrap around Alex as he shakes. The second his hand hits Alex's back, the other is speaking.

"M-Mike, he...oh, God...Mike le...le-left m-me..." Alex eventually stammers, his fingers tightening in Justin's shirt.

For the next two hours, those are the only words Alex manages. Justin's baffled. He can't fathom why Mike would have done such a thing. Everything had been going so well between the two of them! They had been the shining example of a couple, the two that everyone wanted to be! And now...it's just over? Alex is absolutely distraught, shattered over the whole thing. He sobs, holding tight even as Justin migrates them to the bed.

Justin continues holding Alex long after the younger has fallen asleep, exhausted himself with tears. His breathing still hitches in his sleep, however, and it makes Justin ache. He whispers soft endearments into Alex's ear even as he slumbers. Eventually, Justin drifts off as well, his arms around Alex the whole time.

 

**III**

 

When Justin blinks awake, it's to warm breath on his face. With his eyes barely open, he registers someone's lips precariously close to his own, and he startles, sitting up quickly. His breathing evens out when he realizes it's just Alex. Alex, whose cheeks are still streaked with tears, his whole face still swollen from hours of crying. Alex, who is still holding onto Justin's arm, even as he sits up. Alex, who has somehow managed to peel his shirt off during the night. Alex, who looks...pretty fucking amazing right now, all open and vulnerable, but still with an underlying presence of sheer sex appeal. Justin shakes his head, clears the thoughts out. Now is  _not_  the time.

He pulls himself up and out of the bed, finding his own shirt where he'd thrown it in his own slumbering, and tugging it over his head. With one last look over his shoulder at Alex, he slips out the door, closing it quietly behind him. He bites back a cringe when he discovers Heath already awake and eating a bowl of cereal at the table. Justin ducks his head down, trying to avoid his best friend's gaze as the redhead looks up at him curiously. The smaller reaches into the cabinet, pulling out his own cereal and a bowl slowly. He turns around and gets the milk out of the fridge. When he turns back to his bowl, he nearly drops the milk. Heath is suddenly right next to him, putting his own bowl in the sink. The redhead about-faces, leaning against the counter with a light smile.

"Good morning." he says quietly.

"Uh, morning, Heath." Justin replies, attempting a smile. He curses his voice for cracking.

Heath shoots him a curious look. The second he opens his mouth to speak, however, they both hear the sound of Justin's door opening. Heath's eyes snap open wide when Alex pokes his head out of the hallway. Justin waves at the sleepy man shyly. Alex just nods before turning and walking back down the hall. Justin refuses to meet Heath's now narrowed eyes as they listen to Alex stumble in and out of the bathroom before finally making it back to Justin's room. Heath waits until they've heard the door close once again to speak.

"What in the hell is he doing here?" he demands, turning to the high flyer with an almost incredulous look.

"Mike left him." Justin tries to explain. It sounds kind of dumb, even to him.

Heath stares at him as if he's waiting for Justin to explain further. When Justin doesn't respond, the redhead motions with his hands.

"And...that's your problem...how?" Heath questions, and the high flyer looks like he wants to object. He opens his mouth, but instead just sighs.

"I'm not really sure." he finally mumbles, looking away again.

"Well, don't you think you should find out?" the redhead pushes, gazing at his friend expectantly.

Justin rolls his eyes, pushing the untouched cereal to the back of the counter and replacing the milk in the fridge.

"Fine, geez, I'm going." he grinds out.

The high flyer stalks off down the hall, muttering under his breath the whole way. When he gets to his door, he throws it open with a cry of Alex's name. It falls short, however, the second his eyes fall on the other. The younger is lying on his back, hands folded behind his head as he stares blankly at the ceiling. He doesn't even look sad anymore, just...empty. Justin cautiously makes his way over and sits down softly on the bed, pushing himself to rest against the headboard. After a few long, silent moments, Alex finally opens his mouth.

"What do you do when your entire world is flipped upside down?" It's said in almost a whisper, and Justin is instantly taken aback. He looks over at Alex with sadness in his eyes.

"I'm not really sure. I guess it would depend on how." Justin responds quietly.

Alex sits up suddenly, scrubs his hands over his face.

"God, he was  _everything_  to me, Justin! I lived with him, traveled with him, partied with him...hell, I did his fucking laundry! And it's all gone, just like that. Fuck, my house was his house. My friends are all his friends! I just," Alex has to stop, take a deep breath. He turns his gaze on Justin as he lets out an uncharacteristic whimper. "I don't know what I'm going to do."

The high flyer is at a loss for words. He's never really thought of it like that before, but now that he is, he can see just how desperate the situation is. The two really had been attached at the hip. He can't even imagine how Alex feels now that that connection is severed. It must be terrible. Justin feels the bed shift and looks over at the other quickly. Alex is tugging his shirt over his head, straightening it as he makes his way around the room, grabbing his phone and things.

"I'm sorry, shit, I don't know what I'm doing here. I just, I didn't know where else to  _go_. I mean, I know we're not best friends or anything, or even really close anymore, which is totally my fault. Fuck, I shouldn't be bothering you with this. You don't ca..." Alex trails off, stopping by the door and staring down at his feet. Eventually, he turns to Justin with a smile. "Look, I'm really sorry, Justin. I'll just, ah. I'll be on my way."

Justin stops him as he reaches for the door handle.

"Where are you going to go?" he asks, slipping a hint of curiosity into his voice to mask his own slight fear.

Alex turns back to him with a sad smile.

"I'm not sure." he replies, shuffling awkwardly on his feet. "I don't really...know anyone. Mike said to get out, and I started thinking about who I knew that wasn't Mike's friend first and...you were the only one I could think of."

Justin can't help the way his eyes open wide. Only him? Really? But when Justin thinks about it, it makes sense. That doesn't make it any less shocking. Alex coughs out a laugh and rubs the back of his head nervously.

"Although, I guess we're not really friends anymore-"

"Of course you're my friend, Alex." the high flyer interjects quickly, stifling the sentence before the other can even finish it. "Just because we haven't hung out in a while doesn't mean we're not still friends."

He watches Alex's features soften a bit, his nerves melting just slightly. It brings a soft smile to his own face.

"That means more to me than you know, Justin. Seriously. Thank you." Alex says quietly. Then, he opens the door, turning to exit. "But, uh, I'll be getting out of your hair now."

"Alex, wait." Justin hears the words leave his mouth before he has a chance to really process what he's saying. "You can stay here for a little while if you want."

Alex stops and spins around so fast he has to grab the door frame to steady himself.

"A-are you serious?" he asks, disbelief evident in his tone. "I mean, I don't want to impose or anything."

"No, you wouldn't be. Heath won't mind." Justin vouches, knowing immediately he's putting his own feet in his mouth.

"Are you sure?" Alex questions skeptically.

The high flyer nods, smile spreading across his face. "Of course! I promise, Alex. It's fine."

Before he knows what happened, arms are being slung around him, his face being pulled into Alex's neck. He inhales deeply, his eyes slipping closed as he lets the scent take over for a moment. He snaps out of it as Alex speaks.

"Thank you so much, Justin. You have no idea how much I appreciate this."

The younger's hot breath against his ear heats up his face as well.  _What in the hell have I gotten myself into?_  he thinks.

"It's, uh. It's no pro-problem." he manages.

He can only hope he's right.


	2. Mr. Brightside

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own shit.

_~It started out with a kiss_   
_How did it end up like this~_

 

"No way. Not gonna happen." Heath objects the moment Justin tells him about the situation.

They're walking back to the locker room after their training session. Justin turns around, walking backwards so he can look Heath in the eye.

"But, Heath, he doesn't have anywhere else to go!" he tries, hoping Heath will see how desperate he is.

"I don't care. He's not staying with us. He's such a tool!" Heath spits back, and Justin's eyes narrow.

"That's rude." he says, his face full of disappointment.

"No, it's freaking true." the redhead replies, pushing the door to the locker room open so Justin doesn't run into it. "He got up here and started fucking Mike-"

"Hey! They were in love, Heath." Justin snaps. At least, he'd like to believe they were. Alex was at least, and he'll be damned if he lets Heath talk about the younger like that.

"Started fucking Mike," Heath just talks over him. The high flyer rolls his eyes. "And got a big head. He's been stomping around here like he owns the place with Mike ever since. Yknow what? Maybe a blow to the ego will do him some good."

"That's messed up. You saw how upset he was. He really loved Mike, even if Mike didn't love him." Justin defends his friend. He pulls his shirt on, still glaring at the redhead. "And now, he's got nothing. No one. He got kicked out of his house, for God's sake."

"Justin, he's not your problem." Heath says exhasperatedly.

"No, Heath, he's my friend." the older snaps, standing up abruptly. He slings his bag over his shoulder. "And I'm going to help him. You're just going to have to get over it."

With that, Justin turns and storms out of the room, letting the door slam shut behind him. Heath lets out a sigh. He can't believe Justin has just, just  _moved Alex Riley into their house_. He tugs at his hair, exhaling slowly before dropping to the bench. He drops his face into his hands. What the hell is he supposed to do now? He's so frustrated he could scream. The only problem is, he can't pinpoint exactly why. All he knows for sure is that he'll be damned if he's going to share Justin with Alex Riley. He's not sure why that thought makes his stomach squirm.

 

**XXXXX**

 

Mike slumps down on the couch, looking around the room almost dejectedly. The house has never felt so empty. It's so quiet he can hear his own thoughts for once. He hates it, and immediately feels a need to fill the space. He pulls out his phone, dialing the only person he can think of.

"What can the Shaman of Sexy do for you today, Michael?" the voice on the other end doesn't brighten his day as much as he thought it would, but it definitely helps.

"He did it. He came and got the last of his stuff today." Mike explains simply.

"And how do we feel?" John asks almost like a therapist.

"How do you think? Like shit." Mike snaps. He lets out a slow breath. "And it's so empty in here. He was right. This place really is too big for one person."

"I told you that, too, jerk." John objects playfully.

"Yea, well, it meant more coming from him. And now he's gone." the younger sighs.

"And now he's gone." his friend repeats. "So what are you gonna do now?"

"I really don't know, John." Mike pouts. He knows John can see it through the phone. "This sucks."

"Well, you can always take it back if you think it was a dumb idea." John suggests.

"No I can't. You know I can't. No, I decided I was going to do this, and I'm going to stick with it. It's the only way they'll leave him alone, John." the younger mutters.

"But is it really worth it if you leave him alone, too?"

The question makes Mike ache.

"I guess we'll just have to find out." he grinds out.

When he finally hangs up, he tilts his head back to stare at the ceiling one again. He lets his phone drop to the floor, thoughts of Alex running through his head. He was wrong before.  _Now_  the house has never felt so empty.

 

**XXXXX**

 

Alex lets out a quick whoosh of air, flopping onto his back on the bed, his hands splayed out towards the head and the foot. Justin kicks off his shoes, sitting down on the other side and pushing himself back up against the headboard. He pulls his socks off, throwing them in the floor before turning to Alex with a smile.

"What I want to know," he begins, stretching his legs out in front of him. The bed's so large, they still don't reach Alex. "Is how you've managed to acquire so much shit? Seriously, we travel so much, when do you even have time to shop?"

"What can I say? Mike really knows how to treat a guy." Alex replies, a bittersweet smile on his face.

Justin wants to put his feet in his mouth.

"I'm so sorry, Alex." he mutters, pulling his legs up under him and leaning down towards the younger.

"Nah, man, don't worry about it. I'm starting over, remember? Brand new Alex Riley." Alex says proudly, turning over to prop up on his elbows. He changes the subject as quickly as he can. "What I want to know is, are you sure you don't want me to sleep on the couch?"

"Are you serious? This bed is huge! It makes no sense for you to sleep on the couch." Justin reasons, spreading his arms as if to annunciate his point further.

 _Plus I'm not entirely sure what Heath would do to you_ , he adds silently.

"As long as it doesn't make you uncomfortable." Alex responds, smiling just a bit.

Justin leans forward, dropping onto his stomach and propping up on his own elbows. He reaches out and half ruffles Alex's hair.

"Like you could ever make me uncomfortable." he jokes.

Then, Alex is almost right in his face, smirk firmly in place. "You sure about that?"

Despite being said in a joking tone, Justin swallows thickly.

"I-I...Alex..." he manages.

Suddenly, the front door slams open, and Heath's loud angry voice rings down the hall.

"Dammit, Justin, that had better not be Alex Riley's truck in the driveway! And...god _dammit_ , these are his shoes, aren't they? Justin Gabriel, get out here right now and tell my why his shit is here!" the redhead yells.

Justin groans, rolling his eyes and pushing himself off the bed. Alex follows closely behind him, almost running into the smaller when he stops at the door.

"I thought you said he was-" Alex tries, guilt painted across his face.

"Wait right here." Justin cuts him off, not particularly ready to deal with this oncoming storm just yet.

He slips out the door, shutting it behind him. Right as he gets to the living room, Heath screams his name again, evidentially having missed him. He cringes against his friend's shout.

"Jesus Christ, Heath, shut  _up_ , I'm right here." he grinds out, walking over and dropping onto the couch. He kicks his feet up unceremoniously on the coffee table.

Heath storms over, knocking Justin's feet down and standing in front of him, hands on his hips. Justin is extremely proud of himself for not laughing. Heath has never looked more like an angry girlfriend, he thinks.

"Justin  _Angel_ , you have ten seconds to explain to me what Alex Riley's shit is doing in our apartment, and it had better not be that he is staying here, or  _so help me God_ -"

Justin stops his friend before he has a chance to finish his threats.

"Look, I told you he was going to be staying here, with me, for a little while." the older says, all nonchalance.

"I said I didn't want him here!" Heath objects, evidentially exhasperated.

"And I said I didn't give a shit." Justin counters. "Dammit Heath, Alex is my friend, and has been for a long time, and right now, he needs my help-"

"And you really think he would do the same for you?" the redhead snaps.

Truth be told, Justin really doesn't know. He's pretty sure Alex wouldn't have, is the thing. He shakes his head. That's not where they are right now.

"It doesn't matter if he would or not. What matters is that I'm helping him out right now. What matters is that he's staying here, and you're being a total dick." Justin almost growls.

Heath's argument dies on his tongue. He seems to visibly deflate right in frontof the high flyer. Justin immediately feels bad, even as Heath lets out a low breath and nearly collapses onto the couch next to the older, the fight seemingly kicked out of him. The redhead takes a moment before he turns to look at his friend.

"You really think I'm being a dick?" he asks, his voice smaller than normal.

"You've been kind of a massive one over this whole thing." Justin can't exactly lie to him.

Heath sighs.

"I'm sorry." he finally mumbles. "It's just...it's  _Alex Riley_ , man."

"And he's not that huge idiot he was a couple of weeks ago. He's different. He's...broken, almost. He's really hurt, Heath." the high flyer tries to get his point across this time.

Heath finally seems to cave, staring at his feet for a moment before pushing himself up off the couch.

"Alright, fine. Where is he? Back in your room?" the redhead asks, turning and heading down the hall.

"What? Heath, wait, what are you doing?" Justin questions, jumping up and rushing after his friend.

It's too late, however, for Heath has already knocked on the door, and Alex is opening it slowly, almost hiding behind it. He finally steps out from around it, looking at Heath sheepishly, as if the rehead is taller than him. He speaks before Heath gets a chance.

"I'm sorry. I really didn't mean to impose. I just needed someplace to crash for a few days. I understand if that's not cool or whatever." Alex murmurs, and Heath's eyes widen slightly before his face falls. He feels like an asshole.

"No, dude. I'm the one who should be apologizing." Heath returns, ducking his own head a bit. "I was really rude, and I'm sorry. You can stay here as long as you need to."

Justin nearly chokes. Alex's eyes snap open as well. They're both completely floored by Heath's sudden change of attitude. It's like he's a new person. Justin is instantly skeptical.

"A-are you serious?" Alex asks breathlessly.

"For sure, man. It wouldn't be right of me to just turn you out. You are Justin's friend, after all." Heath mutters, still not meeting either of their eyes.

"Wow, Heath, I... _thank you_." Alex replies, grateful smile spreading across his face. He reaches out as if he's going to hug the other, but Heath backs away, putting his hands up as if to shield himself.

"Whoa there, none of that touchy feely crap. Save that for Gabriel...or someone." Heath grinds out.

Alex just laughs. "Alright, okay. Seriously, though, I really appreciate it."

"Yea, yea. Just don't wear out your welcome." Heath nearly threatens.

Justin scoffs just loud enough for the redhead to catch it. Heath rolls his eyes, tossing a dismissive hand gesture over his shoulder as he heads off down the hall once again. Justin hears Alex exhale like he'd been holding his breath for a long time, and he looks at him curiously. Alex looks at Justin shyly.

"I was so scared he was going to kill me, you don't even  _know_." he says quietly, leaning in like it's a big secret.

Justin throws his head back, laughing loudly. As he pushes Alex backwards into the bedroom, stepping in behind him and closing the door, he thinks,  _maybe this won't be so bad after all._


	3. Do What You Have to Do

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: Takes place the night of the "I Quit" match. Hope you enjoy. :)

_~I know I can't be with you_   
_I do what I have to do_

_And I have the sense to recognize_   
_That I don't know how to let you go~_

 

"You're an idiot." Chris's voice spills through the speakers the second Mike answers the phone.

"Hello to you, too." Mike replies, scowling at the device just a bit.

"Care to explain to me why Alex rode in with Justin Gabriel tonight?" Chris asks politely, and Mike immediately freezes up.

Gabriel? He'd ridden in with Gabriel? Why  _had_  Alex ridden in with Gabriel? What the actual fuck?

"What the actual fuck?  _Gabriel_?" Mike demands aloud.

"You really are an idiot, aren't you? You didn't even know where he  _was_?" Chris says incredulously. "Just how bad was this fight?"

Mike takes a deep breath, dropping into one of the chairs in the dressing room and scrubbing a hand over his face.

"It wasn't a fight. I ended it." he mutters, his voice almost laced with guilt. "Told him to get his shit and get the fuck out. That I'm over it."

There's a deep silence that stretches out between them like the flooding Mississippi for a few long moments. Finally, Mike takes a breath in through his nose that's very reminiscent of a sniffle, and Chris is speaking again.

"Mike...What in the hell are you thinking?" Chris finally questions softly.

Mike waits a bit before he responds, as if he has to decide whether or not to tell Chris the truth. The blonde has to admit, it hurts a bit. When Mike does speak, his voice is small, scared even, and it makes Chris feel even worse.

"It's the only way they'll leave him alone."

Chris pauses. That's it?

"Mike, that is the most idiotic-" he tries to explain to the younger, but Mike doesn't let him get a word in edgewise.

"Chris, you don't understand! They know we... _were_ ," and  _fuck_ , that's painful to say, "together, and they're mad about it. I know it's part of the reason they took the title from me."

The blonde isn't really surprised, but that doesn't make it suck any less. He'd had a feeling something like that was going to happen. It's not as if Mike and Alex had ever really been private about their relations. Then again, it's not as if Chris hadn't warned the younger, either. But Mike was nothing if not stubborn, and resilient, and he really did love Alex, so he'd been determined to stick it out. Apparently, Chris thinks bitterly, everyone has a breaking point.

"I thought you were going to tough it out?" Chris gives it a shot anyway, even if it is futile.

Mike scoffs, chokes on a sad laugh. "That was before I knew how much ammunition they had to use."

"You're stronger than that though, Mike! So what if you lost the title? I lost the title plenty of times! They've thrown way worse than that at you before." the older tries almost desperately. The last thing he wants is to see Mike give up on something he really is so passionate about.

"It's not  _about_  me, Chris. It's about him." Mike mutters. He lets out a pained sigh. "Always about him."

And suddenly, Chris gets it. Honestly, he's unsure why he hadn't seen it coming sooner, now that he truly thinks about it. The sound of Mike's voice makes him zero back in on his friend.

"It's been killing him. They keep making us fight, and I have to say the most vile things to him. It's disgusting. I mean, we both know it's not real, but he always looks so crushed. And the way they've been treating him in the ring? Every single week, he comes out just to get his ass kicked! Shit, I think he's taken more bumps in the last few months than I did my entire first year! And he'd always come back to the room so sore and tired..." Mike trails off, as if he's lifting off, drifting up into his own head.

And Chris  _knows_ , has been watching, but for some reason hadn't really been taking all of that into consideration. He should have been, he knows. If he had, he gets the sinking feeling they could have avoided some of this. He feels partially responsible, despite the knowledge that he's very much not.

"I'm really sorry, man. I should have done something." Chris says somberly.

"What could you have done? It's not like we hadn't been fighting them tooth and nail since the beginning anyway. I knew what was going to happen, and I just kept pushing. So, they pushed back." Mike replies. The jaded edge to his tone makes Chris ache for him. It's the sound he'd hoped he would never have to hear, the sound of truly being "broken in" by the company. "But, they pushed too far, and I had to put my foot down. I just, I, he...I can't let them keep hurting him. And if it means sacrificing my own happiness with him, then so be it, I guess that's what has to be done."

"Maybe this isn't the best course of action, though." the older explains slowly, almost as if he's speaking to a teenager. Sometimes, he kind of feels like he is. "Think about it rationally for a minute, Mike."

"You think I haven't? You think I just woke up one morning and decided to break up with Alex? Decided on a fucking, a fucking  _whim_  or some shit to throw away the best thing that's ever happened to me? No, I've fucking  _thought about it_." Mike practically hisses. Chris is taken aback. It's been a long time since he's seen this side of Mike. "Dammit, Chris, I will not let them break him."

Chris falls silent. He can't even argue with his friend. He knows exactly how that feels, remembers saying the same thing about the young man he's speaking to, even if Mike will never know about that. Still, he hates that it's come to this, that Mike is having to rip apart a wonderful relationship over this kind of prejudice. He hears Mike sigh again, and his mind is instantly made up.

"Well, I'm flying out there." he says in his sternest voice. Of course, Mike's the only one that would argue with it.

"What? No, Chris, you can't." the younger objects hurriedly.

"Why can't I? You're one of my best friends, and you're hurting, and you need your best friend. And, since you just dumped him, I'm the next best thing." Chris returns matter-of-factly.

"Chris, seriously, I'll be okay. You really don't need to fly all the way out here." Chris smiles at the way Mike's arguments are growing weaker.

"No, you won't. I know you, Mike. You're going to do something stupid, and I'm going to have to fly out to handle it anyway. Right now, I'm just going to cut out the middle part, and go ahead and come handle things now." the blonde says as if it's set in stone.

Mike scoffs, rolls his eyes. "Really?  _Really_? I don't need a babysitter."

"Says you. You're one emotional breakdown away from the front page of Perez Hilton's asinine site." Chris fires back. "Now, shut up, and go to your match. I'll be there later on."

Chris hangs up before Mike has a chance to say anything else. Not that he really has words right now anyway. He tilts his head back against the wall with what almost sounds like a whine.

How in the hell had he managed to forget about the match?

 

 **X** **XXXX**

 

"You guys, I really don't think I can do this."

Alex's voice is shaky, and it makes Justin frown. The younger is pacing back and forth in front of the bench the high flyer is sat upon, wringing his hands worriedly ever few seconds like a nervous tick.

"Oh, come on. Nut up, man. It's just Mike." Heath responds, almost snickering, like the former champ is a joke.

The redhead pulls his clean shirt over his head, leaning down and zipping his bag up before moving over to sit next to Justin on the bench. The South African is glaring at him, and he stares back, shrugging a bit,  _what_? He notices Alex has stopped in front of them, and is looking at them both with a downright crushed expression. Heath kind of feels like a dick, ducking his own head down. Justin stands, taking Alex's upper arms into his hands firmly (he has to actually make an effort to ignore the way the boy's nerves are making the muscles flex under his hands), stares him straight in the eyes (he also has to make a point to not fall too deep in the baby blues right now).

"Alex, you're going to be fine. It's just a match, even if you do have to work with him. You're the new Alex Riley, remember? And the new Alex Riley can work just fine with his ex, and put on the best performance of his life." Justin says, his voice low. His face colors lightly at the small smile Alex manages.

"Okay. Alright. You're right, new Alex Riley." the younger mutters with a nod.

"And I'll be right here when you finish, no matter what." Justin tells him, just loud enough for him to really hear it.

The smile widens a bit.

"Thank you, Justin. You have no idea how much this means to me." Alex repeats for possibly the tenth time in the last few nights.

Justin just laughs. "It's fine! Now, go out there and kick some ass."

Alex stands up a bit taller, gives the high flyer a final nod, before turning and heading out the door. The second it's shut, Justin's facing Heath once more, glare set in place again.

"What?" Heath asks as if he really doesn't understand why Justin's so angry.

"That was really rude. Mike broke his heart, and now he has to go out there and act like everything's normal." Justin crosses his arms over his chest. "How would  _you_  feel?"

"I don't know, but I'm pretty sure I wouldn't be acting like such a pussy." Heath counters.

"I'm not so sure about that." the older mutters under his breath, turning and rifling through his bag. It's just loud enough that the redhead hears it, however.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" he demands, standing and striding over to his friend. Justin stands up to face him.

"It means you've been acting like such a bitch lately, I was wondering when you were going to get off your period and go back to being my best friend." Justin says with a glare. Heath is shocked. It's been a long time since Justin snapped at him like that. "Whatever your problem is, you need to check yourself. I'm starting to dislike being around you."

With that, Justin turns and storms out of the dressing room, leaving Heath alone with his thoughts. The redhead is unsure why all of them revolve around grabbing Justin's angry face and kissing the snarl right off him.


	4. In Between

_~Let me apologize to begin with_   
_Let me apologize for what I'm about to say_   
_But trying to be someone else was harder than it seemed_   
_And somehow I got caught up in between_   
  
_Between my pride and my promise_   
_Between my lies and how the truth gets in the way_   
_The things I want to say to you get lost before they come_   
_The only thing that's worse than one is none~_

 

It's the single worst match of Alex's entire  _life_. You couldn't tell by looking at him, though, the way he and Mike work together fluidly, effortlessly, like they're on the same wavelength.

 _Though I guess that's to be expected when you're fucking soul mates._  Alex thinks bitterly.

Inside, he's screaming. His fingers itch to grab Mike. His skin burns when they touch. Part of him wants to turn, run back to the dressing room, back to Justin's room in fucking Tampa and never look at Mike again. The other part wants to fall to his knees right here, beg the older to take him back, let him make up for whatever it was he did to upset him. He feels fucking pathetic. It's seems as if Mike has not gone unaffected, though. Once he really gets started, it's like he can't control himself. He strikes Cena with a vengeance, a certain darkness on his face Alex hasn't seen before. It frightens him, almost more than the deadly tone Mike has taken on tonight. Alex can hear the sheer rage in it, bubbling just below the surface. At certain points, it feels to the younger that Mike is taking out some kind of deep-seated anger on John. It makes Alex feel guilty for even being involved. Whatever issue Mike has, it's not with John Cena, but he has become the unfortunate victim. Alex sends him pitying glances whenever he can, hoping he conveys the message appropriately.

Suddenly, Mike's got the belt in his hand, and all of Alex's thought processes shut down. His eyes dart between his ex and the weapon, his mouth unknowingly dropping open the slightest bit in sheer want. It's not until he hears the leather crack against John's already marred skin that he's brought back to reality. He utters a quiet apology to Cena, and John gives him the slightest of nods. Alex knows he's delirious, but it's not like there's anything he can do. He hears the belt come down again, and closes his eyes against the sound.

But then, it's time. Alex pulls out the faux phone, plays the recording, and jumps back, excitement that's not even his dripping from him. He tries his damndest to touch Mike as little as possible, but when the older turns to him with that  _look_ , he can't stop himself. He almost tackles Mike, hugging him as close as possible. Once his hands are on his ex, it seems he can't  _stop_  touching him, even goes so far as to  _almost kiss him_  on  _national television_ , until Mike is pulling away, motioning for the ref to get the belt. Alex jumps around the ring like a wild man, trying to make it seem like his face it wet from excitement, and not the gut-wrenching pain that's coursing through him. When Mike hugs him again, tighter this time, and holding on, Alex has to block out everything to keep from grabbing the older and kissing him senseless, right here in front of everyone. He's not sure what either of them say to each other, but he's sure it's something superficial and idiotic and just  _not right_. He pulls away first, unable to take the feeling of it any longer, unable to handle Mike being  _this close_  and  _not his_. He hates that he imagines hurt on Mike's face as well.

Once Cena gives him the AA, he couldn't be more relieved all he has to do for the remainder of the match is lie there. He has to regain his composure before he can stand, which proves to be easier than he thought. By the time he gets backstage, he even has himself convinced that his face is wet from sweat, not tears.

"Hey, there you are. I told you you'd be alright. You did great!" Justin's voice floats in from behind him.

Alex turns to face the grinning high flyer, whose expression falls the moment he sets eyes on Alex's own face.

"Alex?" Justin questions, taking a few steps forward. "Are you okay?"

Alex knows he catches Justin off guard when he grabs the smaller, pulls him in close, but right now, he doesn't really fucking care. The promise of safety and a shoulder to cry on brings forth the rollercoaster of emotions he's felt over the course of the last hour again, all at once this time. He feels himself breaking down, right here in the back hallway of some arena, where anyone, Mike included, could walk up and just  _see_  him here. For some reason, he doesn't really fucking care about that, either, especially as Justin's arms come to wrap around him, the older's soft accent right in his ear with meaningless encouragements that make him feel better nontheless. For reasons unbeknownst to himself even, he's getting the feeling that as long as the high flyer is around, he might actually be able to make it through this.

 

**XXXXX**

 

Mike takes his time changing after the match, standing under the hot spray of the arena shower until his legs feel like they're going to give out under him. He's physically and emotionally drained. He's never had a match that intense. It was as if he'd seen Alex and become a different person. He figures, maybe he had. The longer the match had gone on, the more Mike had realized that all he could think about, all he could focus on, was the way the match would end, how he knew he wouldn't be getting back his oh-so-precious title that had been unfairly stripped from him, and that in the end, he wouldn't even have Alex there to comfort him. All because everyone wanted him to be like Super Cena. He'd become a man on fire, out for blood, and he didn't care whose. He's sure it would have terrified the old Mike, this complete loss of control on someone he honestly had no real personal problem with, someone he even called a friend. New Mike,  _ex_ -champion Mike,  _single_  Mike, is somehow unphazed.

The sadness, though. That gets him. Being around Morrison after their unceremonious split had never hurt this much. Then again, he'd never loved anyone the way he'd loved Alex Riley. Still loves Alex Riley, because if he's completely honest with himself, he knows he's never truly going to be over the younger. He lets out a bitter sigh, walking to the car with his head down. The entire drive back to the hotel, Mike has to make an actual effort to not have a panic attack. He's plagued by the look in Alex's eyes, the feel of the younger's hands on him one more time. By the time he gets back to the room, he's shaking, barely able to park the car correctly. He leaves his bags in the trunk, dragging his feet the entire way to his doorstep. He's not sure if he's ever been more ready to just pass the fuck out. When he opens the door, however, his mind changes.

"Hey there. What's shaking?" Chris jokes from where he sits in the oversized chair by the bed, smile spread across his face.

Mike feels his bottom lip quiver. The relief of seeing his friend overwhelms him. As his walls break down like levees, the tears begin to spill forth. He hits his knees, hugging himself tightly as his breathing hitches time and time again. He starts seeing spots before Chris is by his side, rubbing his back. He turns and grabs his friend, holding on for dear life as, for the first time since this whole, crazy, fucked up thing got started, he completely crumbles, and allows himself to cry.

 

**XXXXX**

 

Since Heath and Justin still aren't exactly speaking, the redhead goes on ahead to the next town with Wade while Justin opts to stay behind with Alex. They lay curled up together on the bed for hours, Justin listening to Alex spill his soul until the younger's voice runs hoarse from the talking and the tears. Eventually, Alex falls asleep almost mid-sentence, his head resting comfortably on Justin's chest. The high flyer lets out a quiet sigh of relief. He'd been worried since Alex had broken down at the arena that the younger wouldn't ever get to sleep, and knowing the scene that would be coming up the next night, Alex was going to need it. He looks down at Alex's dozing form, his hand never stilling on Alex's back.

Justin ponders the situation at hand, the fact that Alex is even here right now, unconscious in his bed,  _on his chest_. It's perplexing, to say the least, the way Alex had gone from being someone Justin readily identified as one of his best friends, to barely speaking despite being on the same label, to lying here, curled around him, like nothing had happened. Not that Justin minds; he's beyond happy to have the younger back in his life. It's just caught him off-guard, thrown him out of his element to suddenly be someone's lifeline as they drift helplessly out to sea. He doesn't regret it, though. He meant what he'd said. Despite their lack of communication lately, he and Alex are still friends, and he'll do whatever he can to make sure the other is alright.

Suddenly, Alex shifts, subconsciously pulling Justin closer, his fingers squeezing the slightest bit into Justin's side. Justin squirms, ignoring the heat that spreads to his face and groin simultaneously. He runs the hand that's not rubbing Alex's back through his hair, stifling a groan. He wishes he could just turn that part of his brain off right now. The last thing Alex needs right now is Justin getting a hard-on every time he takes his shirt off. The high flyer shakes his head, trying to clear his head. He lets out a frustrated breath, trying to think about anything but Alex.

His mind drifts to Heath, and their argument from earlier. He hadn't meant to be so callous about things, but dammit, if Heath doesn't figure out he's jealous soon, the South African is going to kill him. Justin had spent the better part of the last year and a half biting his tongue and biding his time, trying to let his friend figure out his sexuality on his own, but the longer time goes on, the more Justin's beginning to realize just how oblivious the redhead really is. It's clear as glass to everyone that Heath is fixated on Justin, completely head over heels. That is, to everyone but Heath, who is still somehow convinced that he only swings one way. Thing is, if Heath would just understand his own feelings, Justin would be more than happy to reciprocate. But, as it is, things just keep getting more and more ridiculous. Still, the last thing he wants right now is for Heath to not be speaking to him. He reaches over and grabs his phone off the nightstand, unlocking it and shooting his friend a text.

_**Hey. Sorry for being an asshole earlier. You still up?** _

It's a few long moments, but then Justin's phone is buzzing in his hand.

_Its ok. Was kind of being a bitch._

_**Happens to the best of us. You just need to chill. You're still my best friend.** _

_U sure? U and Alex r getting awfully close._

Justin sighs, but his eyes trail down to his sleeping companion who continues to cling to him. Heath has no idea.

_**Of course I'm sure. I could never replace you.** _

_Got that right. I'm one of a kind. ;)_

_**You are definitely that. I should probably be getting back to sleep. Just wanted to make sure you weren't mad at me.** _

_Like I could ever stay mad u. I'll try 2 b nicer 2 Alex._

A smile forms on Justin's face. At least Heath's trying.

_**Thank you. That's all I ask. Good night, Heath. =)** _

_Night Angel. Sweet dreams._

_Only of you_ , he thinks as he sets the phone back on the night stand. He snuggles down deeper into the covers, trying to get as comfortable as he can. Just as he's about to nod off, Alex slides up a bit more to rest his head in the crook of Justin's neck, his arms winding around the high flyer that much more. Suddenly, there's lips lightly on his neck before Alex is nuzzling him softly. Justin takes a deep breath, letting it out slowly as Alex settles, his breath hot on Justin's collarbone.

 _Or maybe that was a lie..._ he thinks, slipping into sleep.


	5. Words I Never Said

_~It's so loud inside my head_  
With words that I should have said  
As I drown in my regret,  
I can't take back the words I never said~

 

_Alex lets out a loud groan, walking into the hotel room and dropping his bags. Mike instantly looks up from his spot on his stomach on the bed, worry filling his eyes. Alex walks over to the bed, leaning down and dropping a kiss on the top of Mike's head before collapsing on his own stomach next to his lover, face down. He feels a hand trailing slowly up and down his back, and he closes his eyes, letting the sensation take over. When Mike bears down a little harder on his hand, Alex knows he lets out a moan of pleasure. He hears Mike chuckle over him before hot breath is dancing across his ear, "Get naked. Let me massage you."_

_He nods his head and sits up, obeying the older by taking off his shirt. Alex almost feels bad even accepting the treat. He knows his lover wants to have sex, since the sheer pain from practice and the ring have been keeping Alex pretty well out of comission. He can't help it. The way Creative has made him almost as big of a punching bag as Slater (and certainly more of a bitch) has had him constantly exhausted and in pain. He simply hasn't had it in him. The second the warming baby oil Mike keeps with him hits his back, followed by his lover's hands, he knows it's game over tonight, as well. But by then, it's definitely too late for him to stop the older, he figures, so instead, he relaxes into it._

_By the time Mike reaches his legs, replacing his hands with his lips every so often, Alex would give anything to have the energy to get up right now and fuck Mike through the mattress. It doesn't come, however, try as he might, and he rolls over, pulling his slighter lover down on top of him. He kisses Mike long and slow, winding a hand into his hair before separating, but still clinging softly to the locks. He lets out a ligh sigh._

_"I can't fuck you tonight. I'm sorry." Alex whispers, feeling like an ass even as he says it. "I-I'm just...I'm fucking exhausted. All the time. And I'm just so fucking, fucking_ sick of it _. I'm really, really sorry, baby."_

 _But Mike's smile never wavers. He simply nods in agreement before kissing Alex again. When they part, he has a certain look in his eyes that Alex can't really identify. Then, Mike's voice is hot on his skin again, right by his ear as his low voice mutters, "Then let me make love to_ you _."_

_And Alex can't even help but nod, moving the hand out of the older's hair and onto the back of his neck as he drags him down into another kiss. He feels complete for the first time in what feels like forever when Mike enters him, and he almost cries in relief. He'd forgotten how much he enjoyed being on the receiving end of someone's affections, especially someone who actually cares about him. It's incredible. He moans and whimpers and cries out at certain points, totally in love with the feel of Mike on him, in him. He loves being this close to his lover. Suddenly, Mike's slowing down, a look of concern flashing across his face._

_"Baby, what is it? Why are you crying?" the older asks worriedly, swiping a thumb under Alex's cheek._

_He reaches up, feels the tears under his eyes for himself,_

and wakes up, his fingers wet. He's not even sure what made him cry. He chalks it up to the feeling of being so close to Mike again, even if it was just a dream. He sits up, looking around a bit to try and get a better handle on his surroundings. It takes a moment, but it finally sinks in that while it is still dark, and he is still in a hotel room, Mike Mizanin is most certainly not here. Justin Angel, however, is, arms wrapped around his waist tight. Alex looks down, wiping away the remainder of his tears as a smile crosses his face.  _At least Justin hasn't left me_ , he thinks.

Suddenly, Justin shifts in the bed, groaning and nuzzling down almost into Alex's lap. The younger's eyes grow wide, his face growing hot. The last thing he needs right now is Justin waking up and figuring out what kind of dream he was having. He dodges the situation as best he can, sliding back down to lie on his back under the covers. Instantly, the high flyer's arms wrap around him, pulling him in close. Alex grins despite himself, grateful for his friend's affections. He turns to face the older, snuggling down deeper into his embrace. As he drifts back off, the only thine he can really think is,  _Man, Justin really looks beautiful when he sleeps._

 

**XXXXX**

 

Mike is secretly glad Chris decided to ride with him to Raw when they pull up to the arena just in time to see Justin Gabriel climbing out of the passenger seat of a rental car belonging to one Alex Riley. He tightens his grip on the wheel, locks his jaw and grits his teeth at his ex's smile. The same smile that falls from his face the moment the younger's eyes meet Mike's. Immediately, he sees Alex's eyes fill with hurt he can't mask, and Mike feels like such a douchebag as he forces himself to glare when he passes. He watches in his side mirror as Alex looks away. His glare becomes real as Justin moves closer to the taller man's side.

"Stop gawking and park the damn car." Chris snaps from the passenger seat, ripping Mike back to the task at hand. He mutters under his breath, " _Knew_  I should have been the one to drive."

The younger just rolls his eyes, parking the car swiftly. This is certainly going to be a long night, he thinks.

 

**III**

 

"Oh yea? Justin rode with him to Raw?"

It's not exactly the response Mike had been hoping for from his friend. He'd been calling John to try and get the sympathy Chris was certainly not giving him. John, apparently, is cutting him no slack, either.

"No, to the fucking moon. Of course, to Raw." Mike snaps. He can't help it; he's irritated.

"Well, you  _did_  dump him, Mike." John tries to reason with him.

"But it's only been two weeks!" Mike objects. He knows neither of his friends miss the hurt in his voice.

"And he needs a friend, too." John returns. Mike falls silent. He hadn't really thought about that. "You forget, all he's hung out with all this time are your friends."

Mike opens his mouth to argue once more, but can't find the words. John has a point. Thinking back, he can hardly remember a single moment since he walked into the training room at the FCW school that didn't have Alex in it. He'd kind of become the younger's entire world. Unfortunately, by the same token, he'd also apparently destroyed it. Chris notices Mike's silence, however, smirking over at him from where he sits propped in a chair in the corner, feet sat on the table in front of him as he leans back.

"I told you you're an idiot. What'd he say?" Chris inquires, and Mike glares over at him.

"Is that Chris?" John says before Mike has a chance to respond. Then, he's singing, "Hi, Chris!"

"I am not an idiot!" the younger grumbles, looking up as Chris makes his way over to stand above him. He follows it up begrudgingly with, "John says hi."

Before Mike gets the opportunity to say anything further, there's a knock on the door and someone's calling for him to get ready to go out to the ring. His heart drops down to his feet, and an actual whimper makes its way past his lips. He tries desperately to swallow the wave of nausea that's attempting to rise to the surface. Chris's expression does turn sympathetic now, taking the phone from Mike carefully and pulling the younger into his arms.

"You'll be fine. And when you're done, I'm right here. Then we can get the fuck out of here and go relax somewhere, take your mind off it. Okay?" he whispers. Mike manages a nod before shuffling out the door. Once it's shut behind his sulking figure, Chris puts the phone back to his ear, letting out a light sigh.

"He's gonna do something stupid, isn't he?" John asks worriedly.

"Probably." Chris agrees, a sad lilt to his voice. "That's why I'm already here, though. Hopefully it won't be  _too_  bad."

"He's being an idiot." John says, a sad smile for his friend on his face that Chris can almost see through the phone.

"It's Mike. Of course he's being an idiot. But it's not like I can convince him of that. He's so damned stubborn." Chris grinds out, dropping down into the chair Mike had just vacated.

"Yea. Just...take care of him, alright? This shit's killing him." John finally mutters.

Chris exhales slowly. "I'll sure as hell try."

 

**III**

 

Mike has never hated being able to read Alex until right now. He wonders if the younger can read him the same. He truly hopes not, because he knows that if Alex can, then he's screwed. Every word he's not saying burns his lips like cyanide. He hates watching the way the ones he does say sting Alex as well.

"There is only one reason I didn't win the WWE Championship last night, and that reason is you, Alex Riley."  _Because if I didn't love you so damned much, they wouldn't have taken it from me. But it was worth it..._

Having to look at his ex hurts too much, and when Alex swipes his hands over his face slowly, as if he's trying to remain calm, Mike has to turn away. He spews lies about the younger and what a screw-up he is, and he can  _feel_  Alex start pacing beside him, the boy's glare digging into his  _skin_. Once Josh reads him the cue, that he's done with Cena, he forces himself to get back into character. He knows what he has to do, what he has to  _say_.

 _This is what you wanted_ , he reminds himself.  _This is exactly why you did the damn thing, for this moment right here. You've done it, Mike. Congratulations. Now play your part._

He takes a deep breath, turns slowly, and unleashes on Alex.

"This is all your fault. If it wasn't for you, I would be WWE Champion right now, you worthless waste of space."  _It's so empty without you in it._

He knows that if Alex is really paying attention (hell, if  _anyone_  is), his eyes betray him. Apparently, however, Alex hears his words more than he hears what's behind them. He supposes it's good for the storyline, really sells it, but nevertheless, it makes his eyes glaze with tears to see Alex's own turn from sadness to anger. There's still a level of hurt to them, however, and he knows Alex can tell he's about to cry right here on national television.

And then, "Miz. It wasn't like I was the one who said I Quit."

It's like he's been slapped in the face. He almost recoils at the statement; it hits too close to home. Alex is right. It's his own fault. He didn't have to do it. But, he had, and now here he stands, his goal accomplished, and he can't even be happy about it. He does, however, have to finish the job. He turns slowly to Alex, demands him to repeat himself. He shoves the boy away from him, desperate to try and just get the younger out of his space. Alex is not to be deterred, though, reaching for him. His fingers burn, even through the suit. Mike has to walk away.

He paces the ring, screaming about the younger being nothing more than a coattail rider, worthless without him. He tells Alex angrily about the blown chances, how much of a disappointment he is. When he meets Alex's eyes, finally, he's almost shocked by the boy's expression. He looks like he's waiting for the right moment to say something, like the truth is finally coming out before him, the explanation he'e been waiting to hear from Mike spilling from his lips. Mike hates that it's come to this, that Alex really feels like Mike would dump him, has dumped him, over these lies. But for some reason, he can't shut up.

"I am sick of your mind-numbing stupidity!"  _I miss your laugh._

Alex looks positively heartbroken and angry, all at once, like he's holding back tears, though he's unsure of which emotion they're from.

"I am sick of your face!"  _I miss waking up to your face._

Alex clenches his jaw, looks like he's trying not to speak.

"I am sick of you, period!"  _I want you back._

Alex's face just keeps falling.

"I am done with you!"  _I love you._

Alex almost flinches. It's as if Mike's kicking him out all over again.

"You are fired!"  _Please don't hate me._

Alex looks totally crushed, his face a mirror of the night Mike dumped him. Mike feels like he's been kicked, guilt filling his gut. He can't take it.

"Don't you look at me like that. Get out of my face!"

He shoves his ex-lover away, hard. Mike's really not expecting Alex to take it as his cue when the younger swings.


	6. Listen to Your Heart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: So after I began writing this, candy-belle on fanfiction.net also posted a story dealing with the same split. I was totally excited, because I love reading other people's work, especially this author in particular, so of course I started reading. The issue is, I realized partway in, we have a scene that appears very similar. I worried for a moment that people might think I stole the idea, or vice versa. Clearing it up: While I had written my scene before I read the one in question, mine hadn't been posted anywhere so mine couldn't have possibly been plagarized either. I think it's just a case of great minds thinking alike. That being said, I'd also like to remind everyone what I've told numerous reviewers so far: nothing is ever as it seems. Either way, I hope you enjoy this chapter. And make sure to check out A Rose By Any Other Name by candy-belle. I've been enjoying it as well. :)

_~Sometimes you wonder if this fight is worthwhile._   
_The precious moments are all lost in the tide, yea._   
_They're swept away and nothing is what is seems,_   
_The feeling of belonging to your dreams._

_Listen to your heart when he's calling for you._   
_Listen to your heart there's nothing else you can do._

_I don't know where you're going and I don't know why,_   
_But listen to your heart before you tell him goodbye.~_

 

Alex can't help it, something in him has snapped. To his credit, however, none of his punches connect. He tries to ignore the fact that it's because he's trying to hold back tears, and he knows that if he lets loose, really hits Mike, he won't be able to keep them at bay any longer. Once they're out of the ring, though, he can't stop himself, landing a few strikes against the back of Mike's head. He hears Mike make a few noises of pain, and he yanks the older back up, ripping his shirt in the process. He barely registers what he's saying even as he speaks.

"After all I did for you? After all I..."

He trails off, can't finish the sentence out loud. Instead, he drags Mike to the announce table, slides him over it and into the wall. The way his ex-lover slumps against the floor, he knows he's dazed him. He wastes no time, snatching Mike back up and getting right in his face.

"After all I did for you, you didn't even..."  _Didn't even tell me why. Couldn't even say it to my face. You son of a bitch._

He throws the older onto the announce table again, then scoops him back up and rolls them both back into the ring. He swings with a purpose this time, connecting solidly with Mike's face and then grabs him, slings him into the corner. A few fake hits later and he can't take it anymore, stepping away with a yell of frustration. He's never felt like this before, this awkward mixture of emotions that boils in his stomach and makes him simultaneously feel like throwing up, crying, and kicking Mike's ass, all at the same time. He still feels cheated, like he's been shortchanged in this whole breakup. Mike hasn't given him a straight answer once. He had put up with so much ridiculous bullshit, thrown away everything for Mike, and the older couldn't even be honest with him.

"Everything I did! Everything! For you!"  _All the beatings I took, all the bumps I felt, all the sleepless nights in pain, all the ridicule I suffered, all of it._

He throws Mike hard onto the mat, watches him bounce with an almost sick satisfaction. The older pushing himself up, and Alex almost thinks he sees tears in Mike's eyes, sobs trying to break forth.  _Good_ , he thinks,  _hurt_. Alex swipes his hands over his face slowly, tries desperately to catch his breath as he's reminded they're taping, in front of an audience. He stalks back over, leaning down into Mike's space.

"Go to hell." he spits through gritted teeth.

Alex turns and storms over to the corner of the ring. He remembers he's supposed to end it some fancy way, so he rushes Mike, connecting a foot to the older's face lightly for good measure. Mike flips over onto his back. Alex doesn't stick around, can't. He storms up the ramp as fast as he can without seeming too upset, fighting his sadness the whole way. A storm brews behind his eyes. The second he's behind the curtain, Justin's beside him, saying his name and reaching for him. He suddenly feels like he can't breathe, shrugging his friend off.

"Not right now." he says, making his way down the hall to the locker room.

The second he's in the room, he's collapsing on the couch, face down. He buries his face in his arms, takes a few long, shaky breaths. It's not supposed to hurt this bad, he thinks. He thought he was past this, a brand new Alex Riley. He feels like he's back-pedaling. He hears the door open and Justin slip inside, walking over and dropping into a chair near the couch. Alex keeps breathing steadily, trying not to think about anything good Mike has ever done for him. Instead, he focuses on the way Mike had spoken to him in the ring, the way it felt as if the older was airing their dirty laundry for the world to see. It had felt like their breakup all over again, only this time, it was on camera, and Alex had to admit, he'd lost it a bit. But he couldn't help it! Once he'd started, he was completely unable to stop himself. He's honestly glad he's managed to keep from crying. He's so sick of feeling weak.

He sniffs a bit, finally calm, and sits up. Justin's sitting backwards in a chair, chin rested on folded arms. He shoots the high flyer a watery smile. Justin returns it, sitting up straight once again.

"You okay?" the South African asks quietly.

"I'm sure I will be. I mean, we've made it through the worst, right?" Alex replies almost hopefully.

"That's the spirit!" Justin exclaims happily.

Alex lets out an actual laugh. "That was...so gay, man."

"Says the guy who just beat up his ex-boyfriend in a wrestling ring." Justin fires back without thinking. His eyes grow wide instantly, his hand coming up to cover his mouth. "Shit, I'm sorry, that was uncalled for."

"No, no you're right. I have absolutely no room to talk." the younger says slowly, smile still intact. Even when Justin examines it closely, it appears real. He relaxes a bit.

There's silence for a few long moments before finally, Justin snickers.

"I can't believe you busted his lip open." he nearly giggles.

Alex closes his eyes, covering his face with his hands. He groans despite the slight smile on his face.

"I can't believe I busted his lip open." he repeats, removing his hands slowly. "I didn't even mean to! I just...I mean, I hate to say it, but it kind of felt good to hit him at least once. Does that make me a bad person?"

"No. Everyone wants to pummel their ex every once in a while. You just got the opportunity to." Justin reassures him with a kind smile.

Alex sighs quietly, leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees.

"Yea, but...I mean, maybe I was imagining it, but...He kind of looked...I dunno, upset." the younger says, an almost guilty tone to his voice.

Justin frowns.

"Alex...Don't forget, he's the one who dumped you. He kicked you out. It's not like he didn't have ample time to apologize. Don't feel bad about it." the high flyer tells him. "Who knows, maybe you knocked some sense into him and he'll come beg you back."

The younger breathes a laugh.

"You have got the most incredible faith in this situation, don't you?" he asks, turning his smile back on Justin.

"I've got faith in you." Justin replies softly, then turns away as if he didn't mean to say anything at all.

There's a near awkward silence between them for a few beats. Justin's unsure where the sentence had even come from. He can't even begin to count the reasons it's a really fucking bad idea to be getting feelings for Alex Riley. At the very least, he's beginning to think that at least Alex would return his advances.  _Unlike Heath_ , he thinks bitterly. He can't help it; he misses the redhead. But it's not as if Justin can forcibly remove the younger's head from his ass. Heath's got to do it himself. Alex suddenly coughs, ripping Justin from his musings.

"So, I dunno about you, but I need a drink, and there is a club around the corner that is calling my name." the younger suggests with a wide grin, standing and clapping his hands, rubbing them together.

"Uh, I, ah, I really don't drink." Justin starts to object.

Apparently, however, Alex's puppy face is incredible, because the next thing Justin knows, he's leaning against the bar in a low-lit club, bottled water firmly in hand as the lights flash and the bass pumps through him. He has to admit, at least the music is good. It sends vibrations up and down his spine that have him moving to the beat every so often. He reminds himself sternly that he only came to watch Alex, make sure nothing bad happens to him. He's glad he did, the way the younger has been slamming back drinks since they arrived.

Speaking of Alex, Justin thinks, scanning the floor. He lets his gaze sweep over the mass of writhing bodies until they finally fall on his companion, wide smile on his face and hands on a tiny brunette girl's hips who is grinding against him as if she's trying to fuck him on the dance floor. Alex's head snaps up as if he feels Justin's stare, his eyes locking with the older's through the crowd. His smile gets impossibly wider and Justin watches as he leans down and says something to the girl before turning and making his way slowly back to the bar. He slides up beside Justin, slinging an arm around the smaller man so hard he almost knocks him down.

"Whoo! I am having a blast!" Alex exclaims, tugging Justin close. "Thank you sooo much for coming with me! Are you sure you don't want a drink?"

"Really, I'm fine. I'm glad you're having a good time though!" Justin manages to respond. His thought processes are all shorting out with Alex this close. The high flyer can feel the light layer of sweat that's made its way across the younger's skin. Justin's shocked that the smell of it turns him on a little. Suddenly, Alex's lips are right against his ear. Justin closes his eyes, repeating to himself,  _he'sdrunkhe'sdrunkhe'sdrunk._

"I'd be having more fun if you'd dance with me, though. I promise I don't bite." Alex practically purrs, pressing closer to Justin as he speaks. "That is, unless you're into that kind of thing."

The high flyer swallows thickly, barely supressing the shiver that itches to run up his spine.

"I-I-I d-don't," and Justin has to pause and swallow again, cursing the way his voice cracks, "I don't really dance."

He tries to retract himself from Alex's grip, but the younger's flirtatious expression almost paralyzes him. He takes a deep breath.

"About that drink though..." he says. It's becoming rather apparent that he's going to need it.

 

**XXXXX**

 

"Oww! Fuck!" Mike exclaims, trying to pull away from Chris and his evil alcohol swab of doom. He glares at his friend. "That fucking stings."

"Well you have to let me clean it out. You can't let it get infected. I mean, whatever would you do without your cute little pout?" the older jokes, smirking at his friend.

Mike sighs begrudgindly, but sticks his lip out once again. He cringes, but doesn't pull away this time as Chris disinfects his wound. When Chris pulls back to examine his handiwork, he lets his eyes trail down the front of the younger's body as well. He tries not to flinch, but Mike catches it anyway. He shoots his friend a sad smile.

"He really did a number on you, huh?" Chris questions softly.

The younger's eyes dart away. Chris instantly feels bad.

"Mike-" he tries, but the other cuts him off.

"No, I deserved it. He was so  _hurt_ , man. I feel like I've been lying to him." Mike mutters, still not looking at his friend.

"Uh, you kind of have." Chris replies, trying to ignore the glare Mike shoots his way.

The younger has been feeding his ex half-truths and white lies the whole time. At least, when he hasn't been ignoring Alex entirely. Chris just wishes he understood that avoidance is not the way to handle this. The older sighs.

"Look, how about we go out tonight, just me and you? Have a few drinks, maybe dance a bit. Take your mind off things for a little while. There's even a club right around the corner." he offers, a last ditch attempt to help Mike feel better. At least if Mike got too fucked up, he'd be there. This was a good idea, he was sure of it.

 _He can't do anything too stupid if I'm there,_  Chris thinks as Mike agrees half-heartedly,  _right_?


	7. We R Who We R

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I don't even care that this is my shortest chapter, I'm pretty sure it's my favorite. It certainly helped that I'm actually used to hearing the song mentioned IN the club, with the low lights and the low bass and everything, so it set the mood perfectly. Even reading back through listening to the track while I read, I felt like it turned out great. Hope you enjoy. :D

_~Tonight we're going hard_   
_Just like the world is ours_   
_We're tearin' it apart_   
_You know we're superstars, we are who we are_   
_We're dancing like we're dumb_   
_Our bodies going numb_   
_We'll be forever young_   
_You know we're superstars, we are who we are~_

 

Evidentially, Chris has drastically underestimated the effect of this particular breakup on his young friend. Mike had gone from faking happiness prancing around the dance floor, accepting drinks from everyone who offered them, to where he is now, slumped over a table nursing his newest mixed drink. Chris doesn't think he's ever seen Mike quite so sad, even when he and Morrison broke up. He's not sure how, but Alex Riley has apparently managed to worm his way through every single one of Mike's defenses and secure himself a place in the young man's heart.

"I, I just, I don't know if I did the right thing, Chris. I love him  _so much_ , yknow?" Mike almost whines.

It's probably the fifth time he's said something of the same nature in the last half hour. It seems the more inebriated he gets, the more upset he gets. Chris has been trying to cut him off for the same amount of time. He's terrible at sad Mike. He never knows what to say. Mike lets out a low whimper and takes another swig of his drink. Chris's eyes widen a bit and he takes it from his hand, setting it just out of arm's reach on the table.

"Hey, come on, now. Don't be so down! Your plan worked, didn't it? He's getting a push. A face push at that!" Chris says excitedly.

Mike slumps forward, resting his chin on arms on the table in front of them. Chris rattles his brain for something, anything else he can say. He reaches out, resting a hand on Mike's shoulder carefully.

"What's that saying? If you love something, let it go, if it comes back to you, it's yours to keep? Something like that? Well, you let him go. And you've seen it yourself, he really,  _really_  loves you. Surely he'll come back. And, and on the off chance he doesn't, I'll be here for you. I've always been here for you before, right?" the older rushes out, a desperate attempt.

The younger's face suddenly changes, as if he's realized something, as if some of the pieces of the puzzle that he's been missing all this time have suddenly fallen into place. He sits up a bit, tipsy smile blossoming on his face like a spring morning. Chris smiles back excitedly.  _Thank God_ , he thinks.

"You're right, Chris. You are...absolutely right." Mike agrees with his friend.

"See? You'll be fine." the older returns as Mike straightens his back.

"Who cares if he comes back, right?" Mike says, scooting forward a bit.

"Wait, what?"

"You're totally right. You  _have_ always been there for me. And you're here right now! Thank you, Chris."

Chris doesn't even get a chance to respond before the younger is leaning in, capturing his lips in a sweet, tender kiss. For the briefest of moments, Chris indulges himself the way he's always wanted to, opening his mouth and giving the younger a chance to explore. He takes over for a breath, swiping his tongue through Mike's mouth, feeling his friend moan just a bit. Then, he's pulling back, bittersweet smile on his face as he meets Mike's eyes.

"Mike, baby? Y'know that thing I keep telling you?" Chris asks tenderly.

"That I'm an idiot?" Mike verifies. At his companion's nod, he sighs. "I'm doing it again, huh?"

"Just a bit." the older informs him. "Look, Mike...it's not that I don't love you. I love you to death, really, I do. You're one of my best friends. But seriously? You love Alex. You love Alex Riley more than you have loved anyone else, ever, in your life. I can see it on your face. I can hear it in your voice. Face it, you're fucking soulmates!"

The smaller scoffs. "Yea, well, a lot of good that does me now."

"Don't say that. He loves you, too. Right now, you're both being stupid. He'll come around." Chris tries again to reassure his friend.

"Whatever you say." Mike murmurs. He lets out a slow breath of air. "Hey Chris? Let's go back to the hotel."

The older nods, helping his friend stand and walk to the car. Halfway to the hotel, Mike passes out, his head on the window, a wet sheen on his cheeks. Chris carries him inside and puts him to bed, stripping down and passing out in the other bed. As he falls asleep to the sound of Mike's hitched breaths, he can only hope that he's right.

 

**XXXXX**

 

Of all the things in the entire world for Alex to see on the way back from the bathroom,  _of course_  it would be Mike lip-locked with Chris fucking Jericho. Alex pales instantly, nausea rising in the back of his throat. He can't believe it. It had really only taken two weeks to get over him? After all this time, he'd thought certainly he'd meant more to Mike than that.  _Evidentially not_ , he thinks, drinking in through alcohol-hazed eyes the soft smile on Mike's face as they separate. He turns away quickly, bee-lining back to the bar and back to Justin. He can't stand what an idiot he was. This was such a stupid idea, coming out here tonight. As if to add insult to injury, We R Who We R begins blaring across the club. Alex chokes out a bitter laugh. Great, because this was exactly what he needed. He's never wanted to leave a place so badly in his life.

"Justin, can we go?" he asks his friend softly, barely heard over the music.

Justin spins to face him with a wide grin that falls so fast, you'd think he'd been shot. The high flyer grabs Alex by the shoulders, pulling him in closer and examining him with a terribly worried expression.

"Alex! What's wrong? You look so sad!" the older exclaims. The smell of the liquor on Justin's breath drifts over to him, and he feels even worse. Now he's ruining Justin's good time, too. But he can _not_  stay here, not right now.

"It-it's nothing. I just saw...no, nevermind. It's nothing." Alex manages to stammer, shaking his head. The high flyer isn't even listening, his ear turned toward the music.

Suddenly, Justin looks like he's had a brilliant idea. He grins widely at the younger once more.

"Y'know what you need? You and I should dance." he suggests, taking Alex by the hand and leading him to the dance floor.

"No, Justin, really, I'm tired of dancing. I just really want to go back to the hotel." Alex objects, trying to tug out of Justin's grip. Apparently, the liquor gives him strength, however, for Alex can't break free.  _Or maybe I don't want to_ , Alex thinks. He dismisses the thought just as quickly.

"Fuck you, you  _love_  this song! You have annoyed the  _absolute shit_  out of everyone with it! Now, you and I are going to fucking dance to it, Alex Riley." Justin replies, smile on his face as he spins Alex around to face him.

Alex swallows thickly when Justin takes his hips in smaller hands than he's used to and drags him so close they're touching as he begins to move. The high flyer slings his arms around Alex's wide shoulders, pulling his head down so low their foreheads are touching. Alex finds his hands drawn to Justin's hips, rolling his own hips against his friend's to the beat. When their eyes meet, Alex can  _feel_  Justin literally taking his breath away, they're so close. The younger wonders if he's imagining the way Justin's looking at him right now, like he really wants him. It's a look he hasn't seen in a while, a look he fucking  _misses_. Misses like the feel of Mike's skin against his, the sound of Mike's voice hot in his ear, the smell of the sex that lingered in the room for hours afterward. The sheer sensation of being  _taken_.

When Justin unconsciously drags his tongue across his lower lip, Alex zeroes in on it. He knows Justin catches his quick intake of air at the sight, the way he pulls the slighter man in ever closer. If Alex is completely, totally honest with himself, he's wanted Justin for a nice, long time, ever since their feud in FCW, when he'd really had a chance to feel those muscles against his own for the first time. The thought had been buried, however, until recently, where it had begun to linger at the back of his brain, constantly there. Right here, right now, with Mike tonguing Jericho across the club like Alex hadn't even  _existed_ , with Justin looking at him with lust blown pupils and a face full of  _want_ , Alex thinks, he shouldn't even have to think about it. He takes Justin's face almost roughly in his hands, surprising them both when, with a renewed sense of focus, sense of self, almost, he leans in and captures Justin's lips with his own.


End file.
